“Honey, I’m not even sure you know what you mean.”
She bit her lip. He was probably right. And it didn’t help that her pulse had tripped again just because he’d called her “honey.”
This was no way to keep her emotional distance from him.
She took the coward’s way out. “It’s getting late. You’d better go.”
“So I should make the offer on your house?”
“If you don’t, someone else will,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact about it “The place is still for sale.”
He nodded and stood, making the swing sway. Emily planted her feet on the porch to steady it.
“Good night, Emily.”
“Good night, Wade.”
“I’ll be seeing you around.”
She didn’t know whether to take his words as a promise—or a warning.
LONG AFTER WADE had driven away, Emily stood in her living room, holding the colorful brochures she’d collected during the past few years. Exotic names swam before her eyes. Antigua. New Zealand. Brussels. Venice. Wales.
She had never intended to try to visit them all, but just looking at the pictures and reading the descriptions had given her pleasure. During those years when her only travel had consisted of driving from home to work and back again, she’d escaped into daydreams of wandering around the world, experiencing places and people and foods and customs that she’d only read about in books and magazines.
Now that she had the freedom and finances to actually make some of those daydreams come true, she would be a fool to throw away all her plans just because a good-looking, smooth-talking police chief—who packed pure dynamite in his kisses, by the way—had come to town.
EMILY WAS SUMMONED to her boss’s office again late on Monday afternoon.
Half expecting to see Sam Jennings and the intriguing chief of police again, she walked warily into Marshall Hayes’s office.
To Emily’s relief, Hayes was the only one in the room.
He smiled when she entered. “Hello, Emily.”
She made a show of looking in the corners of the wood-paneled office. “No gendarmes waiting to haul me off to the big house?”
Hayes chuckled in response to her lame attempt at humor. “Actually, it’s the opposite. Chief Davenport just called. He had some news for us concerning his investigation.”
Emily’s heart gave a little flutter—only because she was a bit nervous about the contents of that call, she assured herself. “Was the call about Mr. Jennings’s accusation?”
“Yes. Apparently, Sam Jennings has finally found evidence that Tammy Powell had been bilking him for some time. Several thousand dollars were involved. It’s obvious that she falsified the deposit records to hide her tracks.”
“Does this mean I’ve been completely cleared?” Emily was almost afraid to hope.
Marshall Hayes nodded firmly. “Completely. Not that I ever had any doubt,” he added.
Emily smiled at the kindly man who’d been her employer for so long. “Thank you. Your trust means a great deal to me.”
Embarrassed by the show of emotion, Hayes shrugged. “I thought you would be anxious to know that everything’s been settled and that you have nothing more to worry about.”
“Thank you. It’s a great relief to know that I’m no longer under suspicion.”
He nodded again and returned to his seat behind his desk. “You’ve handled this whole thing very well. The first of next month, I’m giving you a raise. It’s time for you to have one, anyway. You’re a valuable asset to our team.”
Feeling just a bit guilty, Emily held onto her smile. She hadn’t yet told her employer of her plans to leave Honoria. She had wanted to get the sale of her house fully underway before giving notice at the bank. “That’s very kind of you.”
He gave her a wry smile. “You should get an apology from Sam Jennings, but I wouldn’t advise you to hold your breath.”